Decommissioned
by 7 League Boots
Summary: Sam’s earthbound mission is top secret even from the Team. But it takes more to help her deal with the mission’s aftermath than she thought. Note: Story is complete chapters posted each week. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Decommissioned**

Rating: Teen

Category: Angst, Drama

Season: Season 9 and later

Featured: Samantha Carter (later, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c, Jack O'Neill)

Summary: Sam's earth-bound mission is top secret even from the Team. But it takes more to help her deal with the mission's aftermath than she thought.

A/N: Suggestive language, a violent scene; adult theme

Disclaimer: Freely admit I don't own rights to these characters and this series. Just borrowing for non-profit fun. Sincere thanks to _dreamer-one_ who tirelessly beta'd; any errors are strictly the fault of this author's hard head.

**I. Solo Op**

Lt. Col Samantha "Sam" Carter strode through the secluded VIP entrance of the hotel lobby and toward the special elevators. She noted no staff around as she passed by in full military mode, wearing her dress blues. She was fixed only on the mission ahead.

The Air Force escort waited stone-faced with her, standing nearest the elevator doors with his back to her. When the elevator arrived, he smartly stepped aside for her to enter. He saluted her as she passed him, and retreated as the doors closed. Inside, Sam returned the salute of the new escort. She watched as he pushed the penthouse floor, and they began the ascent twenty stories up.

Sam stood at parade rest, keeping her weight balanced. Never in her military life had she come up against this situation, and it made her almost ill preparing for it. Yet she was an officer, and officers had orders to follow, and her presence here was an order.

The elevator stopped. The escort had his head turned toward her. Sam regarded him from behind her regulation sunglasses without turning her head. He couldn't seem to stop leering at her, she noted from his reflection on the elevator doors. He reached for the controls then stopped.

"I'll be seeing you later, Colonel," he said, with an insulting tone and sweeping look. Sam snapped to attention without looking at him, and he released the doors.

Yet another formal escort waited for her in the corridor. He took a moment to study her, almost showing surprise, before saluting and executing a sharp right face. Sam returned his salute and followed him. The penthouse floor had a small reception area, quiet except for the marble tiled floor announcing the progress of her dress heels.

Then her escort opened a door into a plush carpeted suite. Sam noted the expensive euro- style furnishings; the silver, black and white color palette reminded her of an icy landscape. He ushered her into a den where her mission would finally be detailed. The escort showed some hesitation, even regret as he saluted her and left, closing the door quietly behind him. She faced her mission CO seated behind a sweeping glass topped desk. A dress uniform jacket was hanging on a coat rack, its rainbow blocks of medals in glaring relief against the dark fabric.

He wore only a robe over his slacks.

"Lt. Col. Samantha Carter reporting as ordered, sir," Sam announced. She came to attention and saluted.

Major General Pernell Newcombe, United States Air Force was close to salivating. Here she was at last. His usually indifferent libido was fully activated, and he hadn't had to resort to supplements, not with the thought of this prize. He let her salute hang while he studied this excellent specimen of military womanly form. Maybe he was past the age of her father but he was still a warhorse where it counted. Her arm didn't waver; Col. Carter seemed ready to hold this position for as long as it took. He kept that thought in mind for her "mission."

"At ease, Col. Carter," Newcombe said finally. Her arm dropped smartly to her side. "Do you know why you're here, Carter?" He asked, lounging in the high back tufted leather chair. She didn't respond immediately. "Take off the glasses, Carter. It's a shame not to see those lovely eyes I've heard so much about."

Sam reached up and removed her shades. The midday sun coming through the wall of glass windows made her blink.

"My orders said only to report here for special assignment, sir."

She registered the well-preserved, white haired general devouring her with his sharp eyes. Concentrate and get through this, she thought.

"Very special, Colonel," Newcombe replied. A thrill of excitement raced over him. Her clear blue eyes looked right through him. "I think I should remind you that you are under my command at this time, and how far under is to be determined!" He chuckled at his humor. Carter stared impassively. "Well at least sit down. And the cap, remove it. Ah, good; good girl."

Sam didn't show how glad she was to finally sit. She wished she could hurry this all up, but this was not her option. Sam kept her eyes on his even when he began to stroke the lapel of his robe, deliberately revealing more of his chest. He seemed eager to attract her attention, and almost boyishly proud of his physique.

"I've studied your career, Carter. Seems impressive, especially for one so young, and might I add, sexy? So, I wondered just what made you so special," Newcombe spoke casually. He considered the lovely features before him, carefully blanked. "Yes, you're brilliant, and it's said you saved this planet on more occasions than anyone's counted. But I noticed that most of the accolades come from a few select men," he continued. At last. He saw a vein pulse in her jaw. That was telling. "These men are Maj. General Hammond, Brig. General Jack O'Neill, a civilian scientist by the name of Dr. Daniel Jackson, and an alien with the odd name of Teal'c. Quite a collection."

Sam allowed a blink, then continued her mute demeanor. This was going down territory she should be used to, but somehow she wasn't, not completely. She knew what was coming next.

"Apparently, General Hammond is your... godfather. And your father was —drum roll here- an Air Force general, as well! My, my, how cozy you must have been at the SGC. perhaps even at the Academy," Newcombe said, his voice low and crafty. He watched as moisture built in her eyes, making their color luminous, then was fascinated as they cleared almost immediately. Had he taken his own eyes off of her for a few seconds, he would never have seen it. Carter's eyes were now fastened on some point over his shoulder.

Sam concentrated only on maintaining her composure. She knew he would try the favoritism angle; it had already been tried and was always unsuccessful. Her grades, her theories and accomplishments came without benefit of any clandestine help, a well-documented fact. Gen. Newcombe was either less informed than even a low junior officer, or he hadn't felt the need to plan his offensive like a general. She steeled herself for the final, predictable falsehood. It was the toughest to guard against.

"And of course, serving for nine years with the venerable Brig. General O'Neill, known around the galaxy as a hero and man of honor," Newcombe hissed with sarcasm. Her eyes flickered but did not actually turn to look at him. When the time came, he would order her to look him in the eyes. His eyes swept over her with fanatic possessiveness as he leaned forward on the desk. "Tell me, does he do it for you in bed, Carter?"

The words hit their mark even though she was prepared, sort of. No one had ever phrased this so crudely to her face; only rare snippets overheard behind her back, out of sight in the lockers or in the commissary. She could see the glee on his face at his accusation, waiting for her reaction. Anger began to uncoil deep within her.

"That good, huh? Well, you must be his match. Talk is he's quite a stud; and he hasn't been seen with any other fillies lately. Which brings me back to you, Carter, my dear." He grinned. Her face was pale as marble. He wondered if her hands, her skin even, was cool or warm to the touch. His breathing deepened. Of all the other females he had "secured" for his private amusement, Lt. Col. Samantha Carter was surely going to be the most memorable, at least for a good while. She was certainly the highest ranking officer he'd collected. "The gallant general doesn't like to share, I assume, so here's my offer to you."

Sam felt her muscles fill with blood. Her vision sharpened. She heard the change in his breathing, as he became more excited with his fantasy. Her thoughts blazed with revulsion. It made her furious to know he'd done this to soldiers she knew, and others she didn't know.

"I won't inform the Joint Chiefs that you propositioned me in return for, oh, privileges including higher rank. In return, you will willingly keep me company here today. Only today."

Sam took her first deep breath, unable to prevent the shudder that came with it. She knew his pattern. Once was not only with him, but the men who escorted her here as well as any others he needed to bribe for their part in this. She recalled the words of the soldier in the elevator. The general wasn't honest enough to inform her that he was ordering her to submit to them, too. Newcombe now slouched back in his chair, waiting for her capitulation.

"Hate to cut in on what must be an intriguing thought process of finding a way out of this, Carter," Newcombe said. His low, oily tone was irritating. "You'll spend the day with me, or my trusty guards will swear they overheard you telling me about the Brig. General's affair with his second in command, that's you, in return for the same privileges. I have the ear of the highest levels in the Pentagon, my dear, and O'Neill has a few high placed enemies. They'll take my word, and your so honorable former CO will resign in disgrace. All because he gave his comely subordinate officer a lot more than he's supposed to."

Sam's eyes snapped onto him like a target sight. The fire in the blue eyes that, a fraction of a second before, were glacial startled Newcombe. A seasoned soldier, he bounced back from his lapse and gave her his implacable CO stare. His large hands tapped idly on the glass desktop.

Interesting, he thought, no tears, no pleas for the bargaining chip (O'Neill) or herself. He expected the second in command of someone like O'Neill to have some guts, but she was damn near as ruthless. Her eyes were locked onto his with nary a blink; clear, cold and merciless. Newcombe felt the first tinge of unease since his well-planned trap had been sprung. He wasn't wrong to choose her, he couldn't be.

"Your surrender, Carter, and now."

Sam kept her seat, barely. Had she risen she knew she would have gone at his bared throat like a wild creature.

"Lt. Col. Samantha Carter, US Air Force."

Newcombe froze. Slowly, he inched forward until he was upright, his jaw agape. Carter was looking dead into his eyes, still.

"What the hell..." Newcombe growled. He stopped. She was playing one of her head games, that was it. "I see. Miss Astrophysicist thinks she can out-flank an Air Force general with forty years experience, does she?" He said, grinning at her ploy. "I admit none of the others gave resistance a second thought. Already you're making their bawling and whining so pathetic. Soldiers? You wouldn't have thought so, Carter," he said casually, as if disappointed.

Sam strained for control. He shook his head as if he described boot camp washouts, not proven, commissioned female soldiers who hadn't a chance against his blackmail. He looked in her eyes again.

"Lt. Col. Samantha Carter, US Air Force."

"Won't work, Carter. You're not a prisoner of war. You're in the service of the Air Force, and under my command. I've given you the terms of your current mission. If you don't comply, you're insubordinate." Newcombe retorted, his hand now a fist on the smooth surface. "Court martial for you, and O'Neill."

"Lt. Col. Samantha-"

"Disgrace for Gen. Hammond!"

"Lt. Col. Samantha Carter..."

"WILL you comply, Carter?"

"Lt. Col.-"

"ATTEN-_HUTT!_" Newcombe barked as he jumped to his feet. Sam followed immediately. Her eyes were burning him, reminding him of cold, blue laser light. Something was off. He had expected her resistance and looked forward to it. He hadn't expected his trump card to be blown out of mid air by this tactic. Studying her now, standing tall and mutinous, he craved her even more. This was personal; he wasn't about to let her best him. He eased around the desk, letting his robe fall open to his bare chest. Her gaze wavered only fractionally; he saw her hands in defensive hand combat mode. He smirked and kept his distance. "Lt. Col. Samantha Carter, your mission is to remain in my company today and to follow my orders as given. Whatever those orders are. Comply, Carter."

Sam knew he was over the edge now. He was just close enough to spot any move she might make in defense, but far enough away to keep her offensive moves futile. Except this one.

"Negative, sir," Sam replied. He stiffened. Good. "I cannot be compelled to obey orders that are illegal, and it is illegal to fraternize with a superior officer. Sir." Sam gazed at him with contempt. "You can't compel me to dishonor the Service, which you did to Air Force SOLDIERS."

"So you know about them, do you?" Newcombe asked, a thread of warning thickening in his head. He was a battle-trained officer, and he sensed something forming, something dangerous nearby. He looked at his latest conquest. She wore her dress blues naturally and proudly but too damned defiantly. He had her in his power, he knew it. The O'Neill gambit hadn't fazed her much, but he had been assured that it was the way to break her. She didn't look broken. "They wanted it. We all do. The frat regs? For monks. Hell, even monks need a woman! They think we're eunuchs, walking around stunners like you, Carter, and prime men like me and O'Neill, and tell us to keep our hands off?"

"Yes, sir, so one of us has the right to say no."

"They didn't say no."

"You only gave them an option to say yes."

"No, they had a choice! They chose me. I made it easy; disgrace if they resist, or they could accommodate me. I know how to satisfy a woman, Carter. I taught them how to satisfy a man."

Oh, god, he was one twisted idiot, she thought. How had he hidden his sickness all these years?

Sam remained, keeping alert to his body language. He was a large man and could overwhelm her close in. He was psyching himself up, reasoning his lust to its peak. This was it, then. Sam readied herself.

"I'd rather be disgraced, SIR."

"Would you? To have all your fellow soldiers who look up to the Immaculate Genius of SG-l hear that you slept your way up the ranks?" Newcombe sneered. "Don't think for a moment that your colleagues won't believe it. Ten years of sainthood vanishes with a few select words, Carter." He was inching forward, sizing up her resistance. "No female officer can afford to have even false accusations like that; and you? You'd be a fallen woman, to put it nicely, in less than a day."

Sam flinched inwardly at that truth. Too bad he didn't realize she'd already beaten that kind of buzz. She eased away when she noted him creeping closer.

"You don't have to do this, General. You have forty years of experience to lose, and that includes your rank and pension. We can end this right now."

Newcombe halted. But he recovered; he wasn't going to lose anything, least of all her. So he returned a smile with all his teeth, raking her with a slow hot gaze, finally ending at her eyes. He liked the sight of her rising wariness.

"Target acquired, Carter. You're here. I have all the ammo I need to take you down, on the couch, perhaps?" Newcombe replied. "Or the desk. I've a fancy to have you on the glass."

"Why?" Sam asked, easing around the floor lamp near the elegant leather sofa. "What kind of general has to force himself on a fellow soldier?" She hardly thought appealing to his honor would work on him, and she was right. But his laughter bought her precious seconds to reposition herself.

"Still thinking, Carter! I'll tell you what kind of soldier I am: the same as you, the best! And that's why we'll suit. We have the passion of warriors, Carter." Newcombe barked. "Anyone who matters knew the old rumors were false, anyway. O'Neill's always been too damned noble for his own good." Newcombe hardly noticed he had just clipped his own trump card. She kept slipping around the furnishings, just out of his reach. It was time to show the Little Colonel who was top dog here. "I'm the best the Air Force has to offer and I want it all. If Gen. O'Neill didn't have the balls to take you, I do!"

Sam saw him blink but caught his action too late. He grabbed the floor lamp backhanded and flung it at her. She dived away, trying to stay away from him. Sheer discipline let her catch the lamp before it tripped her. But he was on her. Sam shifted the pole like a staff, sweeping an arc that caught him in the solar plexus. He cursed as he grabbed his side. As Sam made a run, he unbent and swung her around into him.

"Revenge is sweet," Newcombe panted. His face glistened with sweat as he pinned her to him. He grinned at her whenever her struggles forced her against him. "Yes. This is how soldiers should come together, in mutual combat and conquest." His teeth cut into her ear. "_He_ should have done this like I told him..."

"Not gonna happen!" Sam gritted out at the bite.

The sharp pain made Sam see lights hovering around her eyes. She struggled to free her legs so she could knee him, but he had anticipated that move, and the slim skirt also hampered her. Furiously she used her diminishing advantage to swing her arms up in an arc and smash her fists into his ears. Newcombe howled and his grip slackened enough to let her breathe, and attack him at any vulnerable point she could reach. He barely managed to counter her, but crowed when they toppled down on the desk, Newcombe on top.

But his victory was short lived; Sam bucked violently. In that instant of surprise, she whirled and put all her weight into the hand that struck right over his heart. Newcombe gasped as the organ lost it's rhythm, his face suffused and mixed with shock and fury. He staggered and fell back on the desk, breathless.

Sam glared down at the incapacitated general as he sprawled over the glass. For just a blink of time she was somewhere else, somewhere whose smells were heightened in a cluttered half lit space. And this man was someone else who dared believe he had the power, the right to defile her and any woman. She looked at the imprint of her hand on his bare chest and knew she could have delivered a lethal blow that would have stopped his heart or whatever organ resided there. She looked into his eyes and knew he saw her intent.

Then the doors exploded.

_To be continued_.

Love to know what you think; please talk back! And thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

**Decommissioned**

_Much appreciation for the reviews and encouragement. It's so much more fun when readers write back!_

**2. Out-flanked**

Sam backed away from the desk as Newcombe clamored down and regrouped as he rounded at the intrusion.

"Col. Carter, are you all right?" A familiar voice called.

Sam eased herself erect, using the interruption to catch her breath. The entrance was filled with SGC Security Forces, their black uniforms augmented by their flack jackets and caps. She waited grimly as Maj. Graham made her way over to her as the others secured the General's aides.

"I am now, Major," Sam replied as the officer studied her for a moment. Her eyes were concerned, but Sam reassured her she was fine.

"Who the hell do you people think you're messing with? I'm Major General Pernell Newcombe, US Air Force, and you people are a thin dime away from court martial!" Newcombe recovered enough to bellow in his battle voice. He turned, his face contorted with vengeance as he spotted Sam behind the desk. "We're not done yet, Carter. This was foreplay," he growled with a malicious grin while his hand rubbed at the effected spot on his chest. Then his eyes were distracted by Major Graham as she stepped closer and in front of Sam. It was then he noticed Sam was moving toward him until that moment. Graham put her hand out and halted her progression. Her other hand flexed around her sidearm, drawing his eye again.

"You, stand down! Clear out, that's an order!" He barked angrily to Maj. Graham.

Maj. Graham regarded him with cold dismissal.

"Tell me we got it all," Sam asked, blotting the blood from her sore ear. The bastard always scored his victims this way. She patted the mike hidden in her medals, pleased at the dawning horror on the general's face. She noted the bruises forming on his chin and jaw along with fine red lines down his neck and onto his chest. It gave her a measure of satisfaction to have marked him, too.

"Every sick minute, ma'am. We have orders to escort Gen. Newcombe to Cheyenne Mountain," Maj. Graham replied. She stepped over to the general who seemed to be growing older by the moment. "Gen. Pernell Newcombe, by order of the Joint Chiefs and President of the United States, your Commander-in-Chief, you are hereby ordered to Cheyenne Mountain pending court martial proceedings for the charge of sexual assault, assault on an officer, conspiracy to commit fraternization and any other charges stemming from your actions. If you resist we will resort to handcuffs. Assist him with this uniform, please," Maj. Graham ordered one of the aides. The jacket on the coat rack had been searched for weapons, and was now given over.

Sam declined to sit, not knowing if she would have the strength to get up, and definitely not wanting to touch or see anything in this place again. She noticed the general staring at her as he buttoned his jacket over a dress shirt, striving to maintain his military dignity. The hypocrite. His expression was so... flummoxed, that he had failed. She had so many questions about his odd statements about revenge and force. Revenge for what? And he told someone to force himself on her; who? She would have to go to the interrogation, see him, hear him again. Damn.

A feeling of peculiar weightlessness descended slowly over her; Sam likened it to a fog settling to earth. She was fascinated by the way sounds were receding yet echoing as they faded away. Her own motions became fluid as in zero gravity. _The bustle of the village cut off abruptly, leaving her in another world of muted sounds and pain. She was cut off from her team, surrounded by strangers and no one to aide her._ Suddenly two dark eyes burned through the thickening gray air, and sound sharpened.

"Easy, Colonel, do you need to sit?" Maj. Graham's anxious voice pierced Sam's murky senses. The major had a grip on Sam's elbow.

Sam swallowed, and her world eased back into focus. No time for that now. She smiled her thanks to Graham.

"Just... glad it's over," Sam replied. Her body felt slightly wired as if still expecting an attack; banked anger seethed just under her skin. She really had to get out of here.

She sighed. There was still one duty left on today's calendar, and she was barely going to make it. She took a few minutes to try to repair her appearance in the washroom. She felt sweaty and craved as hot a shower as she could stand, but it had to wait. Her uniform wouldn't pass inspection, slightly wrinkled with the bottom button of her jacket hanging. As she dusted off her dress cap and picked up her shades, she walked into the corridor and thought about the other victims. God, they were all so young; Sam's stomach gripped at the thought of being their age and being faced with this. She shook her head then made her way to the elevator.

Her ear bothered her but Sam didn't touch the stinging appendage again. It would be possible to hide it with her hair later. It was no different from the mark the other victims carried.

The elevator continued down with its silent passenger.

A half hour later saw her at the military hospital. When she gave the name of the patient, Sam was elated to hear the room location. She almost smiled, her earlier travail momentarily forgotten as she headed down the sparsely populated halls.

She arrived in the private room just as an attendant finished placing flowers on the bed stand. The figure with the white hospital robe, gown and slippers didn't turn from her silent regard of the street outside the window. The room wasn't spacious but it was quiet, Sam noted. She closed the door. The occupant's shoulders hunched just for a second at the muted click, but she still didn't turn around.

"It's done," Sam said softly. Now the woman turned. Again Sam felt that jolt of protective ferocity when the younger woman faced her with such fear and hope. Marguerite Lewis felt for the chair behind her and lowered herself carefully onto the seat. Sam steadied her, keeping her eyes locked on the wide hazel eyes as she sat in the nearby chair. When her hands reached for hers, Sam clasped them tightly and smiled a little. "We got him. We got all of them. It's over."

The two sat with hands gripped tightly, a moment of still life. Marguerite blinked as tears filled her eyes but didn't spill over. She finally looked up.

"Why?"

Sam looked away, suddenly finding an interest in looking out the window.

"Lewis, I don't really know what motivates a man to do what the general…" Sam began then stopped as the officer shook her head. Sam frowned, confused.

"Why did _you_ do it? Put yourself in his way like this?"

Sam's breath halted at the unexpected question. She stared at Marguerite's earnest face and for the life of her couldn't answer immediately. _"If you need to beat a woman to feel like a man, try me!"_

Silently, Sam recalled how it was she came to be in this position:

When the unbelievably sordid activity came to her attention, it was because of brave, tormented Marguerite. She had submitted to Newcombe's blackmail just after her assignment to the SGC over two years ago. The shame of it was buried deep in her hard work for the country she served.

Then she was up for a promotion. And Newcombe had summoned her again. Sam's hands balled into fists at the nerve of him. Capt. Marguerite Lewis, an electronics specialist highly respected by Siler (she headed his first back-up team), decided on a third option: suicide. It was touch and go when she was found unconscious from a sleeping pill overdose and then was moved to a psych ward for observation. Her career would have been over, but for her "confession" to the officer on duty at the time: Lt. Col Samantha Carter.

More than appalled, Sam contacted her Washington DC friend and former CO., Maj. General Jack O'Neill. She couldn't tell him all the details, but he was quick to supply her with a trusted JAG attorney. She warmly remembered his heartfelt words before they hung up.

"I'm here for you, Carter. Always."

After the few seconds it took to bring all of this to mind, Sam Carter snapped out of her reverie and returned her attention to Marguerite.

"It's what I do, Captain. You heard the slogan around the base," Sam finally replied. She injected a lighter tone as the officer's lips turned up in a slight smile to match Sam's. "SG-1-"

"Boldly goes…" Marguerite whispered then stopped as Sam raised a finger.

"…where nobody else wants to go," Sam completed. They smiled but only briefly. Sam gently wiped the tear that wound down the young woman's cheek. "What's it all for if not for each one of us? We're out there," Sam pointed to the sky outside, "saving the universe, but it doesn't mean leaving our own behind." Marguerite stared. Sam realized she saw the mark on her ear. The tears fell more freely as the shaky hand reached but did not touch it. "We're soldiers, Lewis. We look out for each other."

"No, ma'am. You're a soldier. I cracked, I gave in. You fought back while… while I just wanted to die if I had to … if they touched me…" Marguerite's voice broke as she struggled in vain to calm herself.

"Lewis, this was way bigger than you. We all need support sometimes, and I'm glad I was there. Hell, I 'm damned pissed that he and his goons are sneaking up on his own people while we're fighting for _their_ lives! If anyone cracked it was him, not you, not any of you."

"He hurt you because of me," Marguerite choked out. Sam bit her lip. God, this should never have happened, not to soldiers, not to anyone.

Sam watched Marguerite give into her anguish.

"C'mere," Sam said softly, and put her arms around the stricken officer. She held her, hoping she helped her healing to begin. And maybe to take a step toward reclaiming herself. It struck Sam how familiar this act was; only now she was the CO giving comfort. Marguerite's outburst was short, probably because she recalled whose shoulder she cried on. Another flash of déjà vu, Sam mused. She reached over to pass her tissues.

Now Marguerite, looking wan but much more rested than she did weeks ago, looked up. Sam studied her. She was an average sized woman in her late twenties, with straight dark brown hair, hazel eyes and an enviably clear complexion. That haggard wraith, who missed briefings and nearly fried Siler's relief crew in her distraction, now approached her normal appearance again. She smiled shyly at Sam as she mopped her face.

"So, back in your right mind, Lewis?" Sam quipped, drawing a shaky laugh from the soldier. "You're missed, you know. Siler's guys don't have the reliable back-up leader they're used to, and the infirmary is running out of burn cream and bandages."

"Oh, I'd go back in a ...you mean I…I can go back? But…?"

"Officially, you took an overdose after coming off a difficult shift. It was an accident, no need for a whole lot of investigation, electroshock therapy, or whatever. Since they got you moved out of the psych ward so fast, your clearance must have come through. I'll just check with Gen. Landry to push your return as soon as possible," Sam explained. Seeing the look of freedom on Marguerite's face was worth the day's aches and pains. Tears welled again, and Sam was hard put to keep hers in check. She gave her a moment to collect herself, standing and going to the window.

Sam took that time to check her cell phone. The message surprised her, a little.

"I'm going to have to make my formal report, and my ride's here. I just want you to know, this is staying classified, and if anyone approaches you regarding this again, let me know. We'll kick his ass, too."

"Permission to express myself freely, ma'am," the officer solemnly requested. Sam nodded. The next moment she was engulfed in a fierce hug. "Bless you, Colonel." Unable to prevent a tear or two from escaping, Sam returned her embrace, finally able to slip away when Marguerite's phone rang. All that talent, she mused, could be applied again to saving the country (and planet) once more. She was relieved as Marguerite happily related the news to the caller, and waved goodbye to her.

Making her way out of the hospital, Sam felt detached; alone.

To be continued.

Love to know what you think; please talk back! And thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

**Decommissioned**

_Thank you all for your reviews. Thanks again to beta dreamer one for keeping me on track. _

**3. Retrieval**

It was hard to leave the brief physical contact; it reminded her of how seldom she actually touched or was touched in that way. Today, she got more contact than she could stand. Dr. Daniel Jackson and Col. Cameron Mitchell were good for a greeting hug, and Teal'c was just one big hug whether he actually touched her or not. But those were far between, and curiously, she didn't know if she could bear for any of them to touch her right now. At times like this, she missed Dr. Janet Fraiser so much.

Whoa, Sam thought. This sexual harassment horror was getting to her. Although she could be pretty sure the Air Force would deal harshly with Newcombe, she had to go the distance and help get the rest of those antiquated misogynists out of the service. Sam was prepared to deal with any repercussions from the general's affiliates; so be it. Already a second mission was underway where similar transgressions against female airmen were reported.

Her skin was cold; it itched. How could they treat them like that, just because they were female? Didn't the threat of Goa'uld domination, Replicator invasions, and foothold incursions make these idiots realize there were more important things to pursue than sex from fellow soldiers? After all she'd seen and done to save this planet, this is what she saved it for?

"Sam?" a voice said close to her. A hand touched her shoulder. Sam whirled around and snatched the offender, neatly securing him in an arm lock. "Hey, ow! Sam, it's me, Daniel!"

"Daniel!" Sam gasped. She released him immediately. She was shocked to see she was already outside in front of the building. Daniel Jackson, her team's archeologist, rubbed his arm and stared at her in disbelief. "You blind-sided me; I'm so sorry, Daniel!"

"It's ok. Landry said you'd been on a mission, and to pick you up here," Daniel said, watching her carefully. "Um, Sam, are you alright?"

Sam was busy controlling her thudding heartbeat. What was wrong with her? It was as if his touch burned. But it was only Daniel. The text message was from Walter at the base, advising her who was picking her up so she was expecting them. She saw Teal'c race from the SUV toward them, and couldn't stop herself from backing away. Teal'c saw her distress and slowed until he stood beside Daniel. Sam gulped in air, and tried to breath normally.

"Col. Carter, do you require assistance?" Teal'c asked. He noted her agitation at Daniel's proximity and at his own approach. He held his position and calmly waited.

"I'm ok, I'm fine... Just give it a minute, guys," Sam gasped out. Well, this won't do, she thought. She resisted the urge to shut her eyes as her vision seemed to double things. After a moment, her head cleared and her breathing slowed enough to walk. She started toward the car, Teal'c following a safe distance in case she collapsed, she figured, and he opened the back seat door. "Thanks. Sorry about that," she murmured, and slid in. She took off her shades and dress cap, laying them on the seat. They pulled off as soon as Daniel buckled into the passenger seat.

"Was your mission successful, Col. Carter?" Teal'c asked when they had driven in silence for some minutes. There was a slight puzzlement in his voice but she had to ignore it. Sam looked up. He was wearing what she thought of as his "Murray" hat to cover the tattoo on his forehead. His eyes were checking on her and the traffic ahead intermittently. Daniel had twisted in his seat to regard her.

"Yes, as planned. Just some loose ends to tie up when we get back to the base," Sam replied. She hadn't been able to confide in them yet. Her "orders" had arrived sealed even to Gen. Landry. Yet Sam had a feeling this was way too sensitive to the SGC for him to be out of the loop completely. She would be glad to debrief them, something she should be cleared to do on her return. Her teammates exchanged glances at her answer and all was quiet until Daniel spoke.

"Must have been…special," Daniel offered innocently. Sam's attention snapped to him. He nearly recoiled, but settled for a questioning look.

"Special. Yeah, you could say that," Sam said. She settled back again and tried to get a grip.

"I know. Sealed orders. If you tell me, you'll have to…break my arm," Daniel replied. Sam stared at him before smiling self-consciously. Daniel smiled, but she missed the troubled look that followed.

By the time they arrived, Sam's head felt wired for explosion. One moment she was Col. Sam Carter ready for duty. The next she thought she was going to burst out of her skin. She began to wonder if being part of Newcombe's interrogation was wise; her emotions were off the scale. Maybe she was too close to this now that she had been his intended victim. When they left the elevator, Sam proceeded to Landry's office while Teal'c and Daniel went to the briefing room to await their summons. She smiled at them as they parted, and received their muted if sincere responses.

As she expected, Landry had been apprised of her activities as soon as Newcombe was in custody. She was surprised to see Major Paul Davis, who stood as she entered. The expressions of incredulity on their faces and their queries of concern for her threatened to upset her carefully restored professional mask. Sam merely assured them she was unharmed, and was ready to proceed. She began from the beginning, where she first learned of the conspiracy, to enlisting a JAG attorney to help set her as a victim and then the activities with Newcombe at the hotel. She let them know how Newcombe selected his victims: they all had higher-ranking SGC and/or military relatives whose reputations could suffer if they refused him.

Sam learned that Major Davis was the contact that JAG worked with, rooting out Newcombe's co-conspirators. Another government ally, Agent Barrett, helped set up the surveillance. Whoa: Malcolm Barrett, from the NID? Sam started. The room had been bugged, and with cameras as well? Their flushed sympathetic faces did little to dim her mortification. She had carried a wired mike hidden in her panel of medals, assured that it was all that was necessary. Damn, how naïve was that!

"It would have been…nice to let me know, sirs," Sam murmured, her head beginning to pound again.

"Sorry, Col. Carter. We had to have indisputable proof it was him making these threats. We thought it would make everything more genuine if you weren't aware of camera locations and all. Um, we will be able to blank out your face, and disguise your name and voice at the preliminaries," Maj. Davis said. At her appalled silence, he added sincerely, "And I'm really sorry it got so physical, Colonel. For what it's worth, you're one helluva fighter."

"I should mention that Agent Barrett wouldn't let anyone else have access to this tape, so he…uh, tended to it himself. Said you deserved backup from someone you trusted. I agreed, as did the President," Landry added, his hand drawing aimless on the desk. The silence drew out. "And I believe there've been some---improvements in your hand to hand. Good work." His eyes met hers without censure.

Sam swallowed and nodded. Oh, boy: videotape. Oh, yeah, he saw that stop-punch and guessed what she meant to do. She reluctantly hoped that Malcolm had her six on this. No good deed, she thought irreverently.

"But first, if you want, we can get the guys up to date. Then you're to report to the infirmary for a check up. Please, no arguments, Carter," Landry said finally. Sam colored again; they must have seen Newcombe mark her.

"Acknowledged, sir. I'm ready to speak with Daniel and Teal'c now."

"I'll come with you," Landry said, nodding to Maj. Davis. Davis picked up the general's phone as they left.

The debriefing with Daniel and Teal'c was much shorter, but by no means easier. These were her teammates of a decade. She couldn't avoid their eyes; they knew her so well, as well as she knew them. Well then, she decided, they knew she would be the same post-mission Sam she always was. She had given them the details in as normal a manner as possible.

"Sam, you could have taken one of us," Daniel said when she concluded. He delayed looking her in the eye at first; when he did look her way, she caught his worry and reproach. She tried to be extra focused on the retelling as she noted his face alternate between horror and anger. Maybe in the future she'd tease him about how large his eyes grew behind his glasses.

"I was wired, Daniel. I had a team of the baddest back-up SF's on the planet. You think I couldn't handle it even then?" Sam asked tersely. Three pairs of eyes locked onto her, questioning.

"You could have told us. We'd have been there for you." Daniel persisted in his soft manner. He radiated concern, but she caught the mildest of hurt in his voice. _Oh, damn; he's probably remembering the awful aftermath of Jack's undercover mission a few years back. _

"You know it doesn't work that way, Dr. Jackson. Sam had her orders," Landry put in. His nonchalant manner was not reflected in his eyes, Sam noted. His eyes were sharp and saw beneath the surfaces of all of their faces. "Even I wasn't aware of the operation until it was underway."

"I believe Col. Carter handled her mission with extraordinary competence, Daniel Jackson. She has never been afraid of difficult assignments," Teal'c said. Sam swallowed at the compliment. She knew, however, that he was holding back powerful feelings about this; she'd seen it whenever he intended to exact vengeance on a Goa'uld. There in the tension in his jaw, in his hands as they pressed flat into the conference table, leaving imprints she was sure. "I am certain Col. Carter would have enlisted our assistance if she had a choice." It made her wonder what he saw in her eyes and posture.

"Not really the point, is it? This may have been an earth based mission but it's not without danger, General. Sending Sam into the belly of the beast – a high level general who has connections in god knows how many places – "

"Daniel," Sam said firmly, waiting until he quieted. "I chose to do this because I wanted to, and I wanted it _done_. I seemed to be exactly what he was looking for, and the timing was right. But I know what could happen after and I'm not afraid," she explained. "It's not the first time I was locked in with a lecherous bully, you know." She wasn't feeling especially patient now but it wouldn't do for Daniel or Teal'c to think she couldn't handle a special mission alone.

Another awkward silence as Sam gave back her two teammates look for look. What the hell did they expect, anyway? Hysterics? _Hello, Lt. Colonel here_, her cold look said to them. When eyes dropped from hers she was sure her message was received.

"Is Col. Carter protected against retaliation, Gen. Landry?" Teal'c asked. He voiced a concern hanging in the air. "Gen. Newcombe will have allies." Teal'c glanced at her briefly, respectfully.

"There won't be any retaliation, Teal'c. No one would dare now that we have proof of the general's treachery," Landry responded. He gave Sam a reassuring nod. "And with his cohorts in custody, I expect there'll be some resignations in the next few days, Sam. And remember, this is the SGC; anything dealing with it will be classified, including Newcombe's removal. Now go on to the infirmary. I'll see you afterward."

They rose after Landry left. Automatically Daniel and Teal'c flanked Sam as they headed to the infirmary.

"Sam, you know I know you can handle yourself," Daniel said before they stepped out of the room. She tried to smile in understanding. "It's just…I hate to think of you going there to confront that, alone. I can't help thinking what if something went wrong, he drugged you, or the mikes didn't work…"

"Perhaps it would have made us feel of use to you, Col. Carter, had we been allowed to make ourselves available in case of difficulties. Yet I am confident that you had the situation under control," Teal'c responded, giving his little bow. Sam nearly lost it at the concern he showed.

_They left her! A men-only bash, they said. She fumed, alone in the cluttered, odd-smelling tent. Probably to get stinky drunk and pound their chests in drunken male communion. _

"I know guys. With all that's going on it just had to go down this way. I had no options," Sam answered when her thoughts settled again. But she was feeling restless, and at last made the first move to leave the conference room.

Sam felt her nerves ready to howl; she knew the coming confrontation with Newcombe was going to test her deeply, and she needed to keep herself together a little longer. Yet her moods were shifting from moment to moment; keep a grip, she ordered herself. Just a little longer. Teal'c kept his arm abreast of hers and Daniel held her hand on the walk to the infirmary. Sam was very glad for their support. For the moment.

_**Interrogation**_

The interrogation of high-ranking officers was not the norm for the SGC. So the interrogation was set in one of the special VIP rooms converted to a holding cell, with surveillance audio and cameras, armed guards and no telephone. Sam arrived at the observation post and looked at her "catch" through the monitor. He prowled the room as if counting each long step in the limited space, turning about and continuing. She stepped closer.

"Turn up the sound, please," she asked the technician. Newcombe was talking to himself, but it sounded as though he was actually speaking to someone. Someone they couldn't see, however. She caught snatches of "said she would...didn't work...said it would work..." Sam looked at her companions. They seemed unimpressed by his rambling. But Sam recalled his strange words during their clash. She turned to Maj. Davis.

"Did you hear that? Don't you remember what he was saying when he attacked me?" Sam asked.

"Actually, you two were pretty close at one point; the sound got garbled. Once we go over the tape we'll clear it up," Davis replied. Sam was almost sure he blushed at the visual recall. "As for this monologue, probably coming unhinged. Or trying to make himself look that way."

"He knows the seriousness of his situation. He declined counsel and Article 32, says he'll cooperate. But he wants you present, Col. Carter, a condition I did NOT accept," Landry said. His lips were pressed in an obstinate line. Something in Sam's face alerted him. "You don't have to so much as breath the same air as that - that lousy SOB of an officer, Carter," Landry said. He already knew it was in vain; he'd been warned about "that look" she got when she needed to have her way. He sighed and nodded. "But not alone, of course. Major Davis and I will be conducting this."

"Of course, sir," Sam replied. She was relieved that she didn't have to argue about it. Maybe she'd rather eat one of Daniel's dead scarabs than be near Newcombe again, but she had to do this now. She turned as she felt Teal'c squeeze her shoulder, and Daniel her hand in support before she left them for the next phase of the mission.

General Newcombe sat at the metal table across from Maj. Davis and Gen. Landry. His expression was unconcerned, even challenging as he faced them. His eyes sought Sam without success; she chose to remain out of his line of sight.

"Come, come. We're officers and gentlemen here, Landry and uh, Maj. Davis, is it? This is all a sandstorm over a bit of tail," Newcombe said conversationally. "Oh, a very classy, high ranking…"

"Can it, Newcombe. We've heard your twisted logic," Landry interrupted. His expression was coldly furious. Maj. Davis couldn't hide his distaste at sitting near the man. "You said you understood the seriousness of the charges. You'd better start acting like it."

"Fraternizing with subordinates? A little pinch and tickle? A little attention is what the ladies craved. I gave it to them. Might have been too much for them to handle, but…"

Sam stood and stepped from the shaded corner to face him across the desk. He recoiled at the sudden appearance and the deadly tension radiating from her.

"You worthless piece of crap. Pinch and tickle? You'll be charged with rape and attempted rape and nothing less," Sam said, leaning across the desk and into his face. Davis tensed, keeping a close watch on her. "You and your low life crew will rot in military prison and that's too good for you in my book."

Newcombe braced himself but when she made no further move toward him, he leaned forward and grinned. His eyes insolently tracked her from face to chest and back.

"We all know I'll never be found guilty by my peers, Carter. Bluster away. I'll come out on top in any trial and you know it. Image is everything here," Newcombe replied. He leaned back again. "I AM the Air Force, for better or worse, and no one is going to bring ME down." He chuckled. "Especially because of whining girl soldiers." The sly words and expression were aimed at Sam, and she moved.

"And so you _fully_ understand your position, your "peers" don't want a thing to do with you." Landry smiled as Newcombe glanced away from Sam. Landry saw Davis anchor her by the wrist, halting her motion. "Don't expect anyone to stand by you after they see the evidence."

"As far as they're concerned, you should be put down, the sooner the better," Davis added. Sam's hand slipped from his as she stood upright again and stared at the general. His face switched as he looked back at her, and the malice there made Davis flinch.

"You think you've won, do you? They told me how to get to you, that I'd finally get my hands on the Untouchable Samantha Carter. Well, you'd have been better off if I had!" The General pushed to his feet. His eyes locked with hers, reminiscent of their earlier meeting but now she was even more defiant.

Sam held her hands out to block Landry and Davis; they'd leapt to their feet with the general. The guard outside stepped closer and had his side arm cocked and trained on him. The tense tableau held until Sam spoke.

"They told you wrong, general. You missed your target; I'm still untouchable," Sam said softly. She raked him with the most contemptible smile she could muster, and felt gratified at his umbrage. "Think about that in your cozy government sponsored cubicle."

"They will never convict me, Carter. I'm a MAN, and that means more than anything a brainy bimbo can do! Look at me! I fought in REAL wars, not these bloodless, bodiless invisible aliens bullshit YOU call a war. We liberated towns, villages, continents! And the women were glad to serve us! Hell, they couldn't wait to get us in bed, uniform and all. But what happened to that gratitude when a returning soldier got home?" Newcombe shouted, his face manic. Sam didn't flinch as he returned her scathing expression. "We got equality," he sneered.

Sam burst into laughter.

"That's it? That's your defense against serial rape? The _Leave it to Beaver_ Defense? Women at home, men go to work?" Sam gasped in wonder. The redder his face grew in anger the harder she laughed. Even Landry and Davis stared at her with uneasy smiles.

"I didn't rape anyone. They consented," Newcombe growled at her.

"Let's not go backward, general. Coercion is not consent." Landry stopped him. He glanced at Sam as she still snickered. "You coerced subordinates into sexual relations with you and that's why you're in this position." Newcombe ignored him to focus on Sam.

"Women like you messed things up. We're men, WE kill for home and country. It's the natural order. I earned my spot on top, Carter. Someone had to show you 'soldiers' you're still not men. So laugh, Carter. You think you've bested me but that only shows you don't know what you really are, an unsatisfied bitch."

The room got silent. Sam's laughter quieted until a frosty smile remained.

"Wrong again, general," Sam replied coldly. "You're alone. None of your cronies can help you. You're screwed. That makes me a very satisfied bitch."

Newcombe bellowed and lifted the metal table, turning it over. He made to charge her. Everyone erupted into a blur of motion angry shouts and warnings. Sam stepped into defensive position only to be blocked by Landry and Davis moving to defend her, yelling for them to get out of her way and the guard lifting his weapon as he repositioned to avoid friendly fire. But all were a half-second behind another determined force.

Suddenly Teal'c stood inside the doorway for just an instant before he pushed past Sam, Landry and Davis. The general hit the back wall with Teal'c's burly hand fastened around his throat. As impressive as his size, the general was no match for Teal'c and his strength. Teal'c gazed at the struggling human with implacable rage. All other movement ceased in surprise.

"I am prepared to administer federal execution on this human," Teal'c announced. He had insisted on waiting nearer than the observation room, secretly hoping for this chance to avenge his teammate. Newcombe's eyes bulged at his helplessness.

"That probably means capital punishment," Daniel's voice explained. Sam turned to see him in the opened door. They all returned to watch the general's useless struggle against the jaffa. "Um, maybe someone should tell Teal'c to stop?" He didn't make a move, however; no one did. Seeing that great bear of a man ready to go at Sam nearly stopped his heart. Teal'c was doing what he wished he could do.

"He deserves nothing less for his dishonorable actions," Teal'c replied. His hand tightened.

"Let. Me. Go! Can't kill me – witnesses!" Newcombe croaked. He couldn't budge the man's arm one bit.

"Witnesses? There are witnesses here?" Daniel asked, pretending to look around.

"Of course not. No one's allowed in here. Not even a security guard," Landry said, looking at the guard.

"Not here, sir. " the soldier chimed in, stepping back into the hall.

Sam backed away. The whole scenario was just too unreal. First his assault, then this incredibly prehistoric view of women… She looked briefly over at Daniel.

Daniel noted her tension in tight fists, rigid jaw; the wildness behind eyes as she stared at the perpetrator she'd brought down. He thought the general slightly more fortunate that Teal'c had him and not Sam.

"Can't kill me…trial!" Newcombe croaked.

"Oh, now there is that, a nice private court martial, " Landry said evenly. He tapped Teal'c lightly on the shoulder, and the Jaffa released his prisoner a few long seconds later. Newcombe slumped to the floor, gagging as he scooted away from Teal'c. At Landry's words, the man grew more anxious. "You see, we're in a state of war, General. And this is the SGC, top secret."

Teal'c hoisted the man back onto the chair and was far from gentle about it. Davis put the table back in place. Newcombe slumped over the table top as he caught his breath.

"Are we done with this show yet, sir?" Sam asked Landry. Her voice was even, without a trace of the emotion she showed minutes ago. She had to turn her back to the man. It was too sickening to look at him anymore.

"Not quite. General, you have some papers to review and, if you're smart, sign. Confessions, your resignation. Oh, that pension? Three quarters goes to your estranged wife," Landry replied. Newcombe sat stiffly, his eyes darting about as if to mark where they all were. The official folder with its said contents was passed to Landry by Daniel, who had agreed to bring them when approved. He placed the open folder in front of the glaring general along with a pen. "It's the best possible ending of a career that should have been sterling, Newcombe. Bear in mind that your court martial is by executive order and will be conducted in a manner that best preserves the secrecy of the Stargate program," Landry remarked with an edge of steel to his words. The man's eyes shifted briefly to Teal'c while he considered.

Newcombe's jaw worked for several moments before his hand jerked toward the pen and began signing. Davis was there to review each document he completed until all were done. He collected the folder and stepped back. The man's eyes were trained on Sam, then swept over Teal'c and Daniel, Davis noted. The look chilled him.

"Now we're done here, Carter. Let's go, people." Landry announced. He spared the disgraced general barely a glance. Silently they all headed for the door. It was when Sam followed the guard to the door that Newcombe spoke again.

"Figured your curiosity would be sharper, Carter," the hoarse voice said behind her. Sam stopped and turned. The man's face was totally devoid of humanity, she would swear later. His eyes had an uncommon gleam to them. The over-confident high ranking officer was diminished to this pitiless felon still in uniform, for now.

"About what, Newcombe? You're neutralized and there's nothing else you have to offer," Sam answered. She tried not to let him take one more piece out of her. When he merely sat there with his demonic smile she turned to leave.

"This was personal, Carter. I waited a long time to serve you your deserts, and I almost had you," the general hissed. "I couldn't believe my luck when my associate dropped your file on me: Got you at last!" A mean grin lit his face before it disappeared. "But the rat bastard gave me up instead." At her continued silence, he went on, "You ruined him. I ordered him a dozen times to just be a man and take you, fair or foul. But somehow you wouldn't be taken, damn it. And then you cut him off, and he was never the same, ever. I groomed him to be an officer, the best. And he was, until you saw him again on that damned planet."

Sam stared at him. He was speaking rapidly but the words were stringing themselves in her mind like slowed time dilation. She heard the guard shuffle at the door but for the moment she was fixed on his words…

"Jonas Hanson," the general growled, "was my great-nephew. I read the mission report: you and SG-1 killed him."

"Col. Carter?" Davis' voice called outside. Sam shook herself but Newcombe wasn't done.

"And this doesn't end it, Carter. I was the least of your problems, and they're catching up with you and O'Neill, and SG-1. Something for you to think about."

Sam was still for only a second before she headed outside. As the guard swiped the lock with his card, she half turned to keep her face away from the others.

"His last remarks are not to be repeated. That's an order."

"Yes, ma'am," the soldier replied, and took his position outside the door. The others waited for her.

"Carter, did he offer up anything more?" Landry asked, his sharp gaze trained on her. Sam took a breath before facing him but kept walking.

"No, sir. Just more crap." She replied and strode past Teal'c and Daniel without looking at them. The bastard had to get one last lying word, she fumed. But damn she hoped it was a lie. How could the JAG have missed that connection? And she was so not going to review her history with Hanson.

_Did she really need more reasons to hate this man?_

It took all her control to keep from using the guard's gun on him. Another worthless life spared for one who ruined so many others.

As they made their way back to the briefing room, Sam seethed. No one spoke in the elevator but she felt they were all watching her.

_Sometimes it sucks being the good guy_, she thought.

To be continued.

Love to know what you think, please talk back! And thanks for reading.

_(NOTE: Apologies if the short-circuited court martial sequence jars any military readers. I know the procedure is complex and more so for a general of Newcombe's rank and grade. I simplified it lots and hopefully it makes sense in the Stargate universe. ---7LB)_


	4. Chapter 4: The Fourth Wall

_Thank you all who managed to hang it there while RL worked me and my computer over. One more chapter to go. _

**4. The Fourth Wall**

Sam envisioned herself as a block of C4 primed and waiting for a hell of a detonation.

Sam was determined to go home, but her body was in mutiny: _do_ something or drop. There were bruises and sore spots she'd be nursing for days if not more. It was just as well that Dr. Lam ordered her home for a week. Landry put the team on stand down for the duration if current matters allowed. She yawned as she pushed herself to stand and make her way out of the briefing room for the second time.

The interview with Newcombe was every bit as harrowing as she expected. But she was sure now that _he_ was neutralized. Now if she could make sense out of some of his less coherent ramblings… Or maybe they didn't make sense anyway. She was uneasy enough with the ramblings she did understand.

Her head was doing that fog-coming-down-to-earth thing again; sounds were muted and hollow and everything started to look hazy. Daniel was saying something about going somewhere. Sam felt her skin prickling with first heat then cold. Oh, for crying out loud! The thought of staying overnight while he was here was unbearable. She stumbled.

"I'm fine," Sam said curtly. Daniel and Teal'c were at her side immediately. She cast them a warning look as Landry paused to see what was up.

"Any plans for later, Sam?" Daniel asked. He'd caught her message and played along. Teal'c, however, put a hand on her shoulder in the spot that best steadied her.

"Can't wait to get home, shower and hit the sack," she murmured. They exited in apparent good spirits. But again Sam felt that curious aversion to being touched; she eased from Teal'c as soon as they were out of Landry's sight.

"Sam, maybe we could hang around…" Daniel said, and found himself talking to her back. "Uh, Sam, hello- Why don't we talk?" Silence. "We could get a pizza –"

"I'm ok, Daniel!" Sam strode away from her teammates at a 'leave-me-alone pace,' out distancing the two and not looking back. She realized she wasn't getting away from the base before her impending crash. So instead of heading up, she went to the gym, thankfully empty. The punching bag hung in innocent, unsuspecting seclusion, she thought. She was shedding her dress jacket and kicking off her shoes en route to her target. In no time she had the padded gloves on and took her stance.

The prickling up her back started again, and Sam threw the first punch to land solidly in the leather sack. She imagined she heard Newcombe grunt as she hit him square in the gut. That made her smile.

"_You belong to me! You will learn your place and be obedient or suffer far worse…" _

"_Your surrender, Carter, and now."_

"How's that feel, General?" Whump. Whump-whump. The bag swayed. Sam shook her head of the haze. She saw his face again, in shock as he was confronted with justice at last. "Yeah, this is what _my_ touch feels like!" Sam growled. "Feel like a man yet, General Hands-on? How about you, chief - touchy-feely enough?"

"_I value spirit in my horses, not my women." A brutal kiss. A blow, the floor. The whip. _

"_Yes, this is how soldiers should come together, in mutual combat and conquest." Teeth bite. Crushing weight. Groping hands._

The next minutes flew by as she attacked the bag with belayed rage and frustration. How long had he been doing this? His entire career? Did he covertly leer at women officers he'd assaulted, knowing he'd "had" them? Were any of the victims her peers or subordinates, ones who suddenly left the SGC? Damn, some probably were. She hit harder, faster. All this time, all the waste…They were alone against that beast.

_Where are you? Where are you? Where are you? Will you get here before tonight? Damn it, where are you? _

"_This was foreplay." Savage impulse moving her to rip his heart out. _

When her arms grew fatigued she added her feet to alternate kicks and punches, hiking the skirt high over her hips to free her movements.

"Bastard!" Slam. Whump. "Pig!" Whump. Slam. "Slime ball!"

"_And me?" Knife in kill position. Pressing. "And me?" Just one motion to end his reign, her powerlessness. The lust to see him die by her hand, overwhelming and welcoming and sickening. _

Teal'c located Sam as her fury wound down, her earlier fight having taken its toll on her body. Her knees buckled and she grabbed the bag, lightly panting. And realized she barely raised a sweat! All of this had to have opened her pressure valve.

"Oh, crap! Why isn't it enough!" Sam moaned against the cool covering. Then she noticed her teammate. How long had he been there, she suddenly wondered. Her mind was still warring between agitation and lethargy and, damn, her muscles ached.

"Col. Carter." Teal'c called her. He stood at the door of the gym, effectively guarding it and still able to watch her. He held up her shoes and her jacket. "I am ready to accompany you to the surface if you are ready," he said patiently. Sam closed her eyes and breathed before easing off the bag. She slid her skirt back in place.

_The three around her infirmary bed after the doctor treated her for cuts and bruises, and the lashing; apologies, guilt and forgiveness times three but not forgetting. "I'm alright! Really," She'd said then. _

"Sure, thanks," Sam murmured, shaking that memory back.

"Sam."

Sam jumped. Teal'c was standing close to her, watching her. She was topside, having left the elevators and reached the garage. Daniel stood on her other side, just as worried. Cold sparks raced under her skin. All she could think of was trying not to fly apart. Sam backed up as Daniel stepped toward her.

"Look, I just need to get out of here. I'll be fine," Sam said in a toneless voice. She already knew what they'd say; she would say the same in their place.

"Sam, we'll take you home. Teal'c will drive, over here," Daniel said softly, indicating with his arm the direction. He was careful not to make contact with her. For a long moment she just stared at him with her eyes wide and shiny with a hint of moisture. "We can talk about it whenever you like."

Sam nodded her head slowly, affecting some clarity again. The hodge-podge of the day's events and emotions eased, and she breathed. She managed a contrite smile for Daniel, and allowed herself to be directed. Teal'c was already at the vehicle, holding the rear seat door open for her. As she buckled her seat belt, she heard a cell phone ring. Teal'c was in the driver's seat and responded. But sitting down now brought the sensations back. She unbuttoned her dress jacket and the top buttons of her dress shirt.

She felt isolated. How weird, since she was with her best and closest friends in the world. They should have been all she needed; they were all she ever needed before. The cold seeped from the inside out, gradually encasing her.

"_Someone had to show you 'soldiers' you're still not men." _

She heard Newcombe's vile ramblings and accusations, felt his hands and his skin under her nails... She imagined innocents like Marguerite and the others in that hotel suite, with no one to come to their rescue. _"I taught them how to satisfy a man."_ They endured their terror alone. God, she hurt for them. The evil of it, her rage and empathy and hate boiling endlessly in her mind. _"The spirits have brought you here to teach you how to be a woman."_ It was too much to contain and yet too much to let out.

"We will be in a secure location in five minutes," Teal'c said into his headset, and disconnected the call. He glanced into the rear view mirror at his teammate and frowned. He saw Daniel looking at him, and nodded. Daniel returned his attention to Sam. She was sitting stiffly upright, her expression blanked then angry.

"I'm fine, you know?" Sam murmured, her voice edged with exasperation. She tried to clench her jaws and still speak. "You're here for me, I know that, damn it! It's not like I'm afraid! So what is this?" Her fists thumped the seat beside her.

"We're not all here, Sam," Daniel said gently. He watched her sitting straight up, truly not realizing the missing link. "You did something great here, Sam," Daniel's voice said soothingly. Sam's trembling fingers reached up to her face and brushed the hair aside. Her lovely blues were cold as ice, he thought, yet seemed to burn. Daniel's eyes misted as his friend and courageous teammate struggled to cope while he could only watch. "I know this wasn't easy for you."

"But I took him down. I BEAT him and …and we're on _earth_, for crying out loud, not on some barbaric planet that trades its women!"

Absolute silence followed her outburst. Daniel saw Teal'c become more alert and glanced at him in shock, too.

"Indeed, Col. Carter. You displayed admirable courage against this Tau'ri foe," Teal'c encouraged her. He guided the SUV with speed and confidence while keeping an eye on her. He saw her pause at his words. "I believe it was he who needed assistance against you."

"Um, I agree, Sam. If not for Teal'c I think you would have really hurt him," Daniel added. She snorted, missing his attempt a levity.

"They were idiots. Thinking they could get away with this again. And again, Daniel. The perverts got too greedy when they picked on me," Sam said harshly. She closed her eyes at the swell of anger engulfing her again.

"There is no doubt that you represented a considerable challenge to one such as General Newcombe, Col. Carter," Teal'c said. Just as she presented to the tribal chief she defeated in battle, he recalled. It was not a pleasant memory other than her victory. "He has much to regret in his choice of opponents."

"Probably choking on it," Daniel murmured. His mood chilled at the thought of that early mission, and that Sam was still effected by it. Was she?

For Sam, their words helped her to rein the looming chain reaction of the day's ordeal. She listened and almost relaxed. They really just wanted to help. How odd that it wasn't helping enough.

She had come through major battles, some with serious wounds, and not felt herself about to go from nova to iceberg. Sam hated that she felt this way. She wanted to just let it all _go_.

They pulled over a few minutes later, as Teal'c promised. Sam was rocking in a tight ball on the seat, her seatbelt undone. She propped her chin on her arms, wrapped around her drawn-up knees, staring ahead. Teal'c was speaking into his cell phone headset again.

"_Somehow you wouldn't be taken. I ordered him to do it, fair or foul."_

"Damn, I should have killed him," Sam mumbled. Daniel turned to stare at her. She didn't look at him, just straight ahead with murder in her eyes.

_She rose victorious, staring down at the heathen who'd lashed her, threatened her and would have killed her, and her hand twitched on her knife. _

_He was sprawled over the desk, and she knew one more blow would stop his black heart forever._

"Sam, killed who?" Daniel asked softly. Her head jerked up, and she saw him.

"We are in the..."

A high-pitched hum followed by a bright flash of light illuminated the back seat. Sam was gone. Daniel sat back and shared an uneasy glance with Teal'c.

"I don't know about you, Teal'c, but this still doesn't feel right," Daniel said.

"I must agree. He did not act as defeated as he is," Teal'c answered. They remained quiet, each musing on a mission long ago when Sam also stood against a brutal bully, and prevailed.

She was going to lose it, lose control, she never lost control. Being in control was her life's blood, the way she made sense of her world, her work, her self. And now she felt the looming eruption of her fury and empathy and intergalactic wins and losses and confusion over what the hell was the point of it all if they couldn't be safe where they should be safest – If she let go could she ever stop before she emptied?

They were always there to catch each other when they needed to let go…

Unbidden, her words were muffled into her arms.

"Oh, sir-"

"I'm here," he answered.

She was sitting on a different cushioned seat.

Sam shut her eyes against her urge to look at him. She didn't want him to see her surprise. She didn't want him to see her so _weak_.

"Chocolate layer cake, vanilla ice cream." There was silence and then a muted chuckle. A nice sound. "No? Not over the rainbow, then?" Eyes still closed, she could picture his amusement.

"If you want," he replied, a smile in his voice. Sam sighed, resigned to this new twist.

"Checking up on me, sir?"

"Habit of a decade, Carter."

"You still doubt me, don't you?" Sam said, opening her eyes but not looking at him. Silence.

"I haven't doubted you in a very, very long time."

"Come on. You didn't think I could take him," Sam snorted. She spared a glance around her. His home? Silence again, until she finally faced him. His expression was blank as he watched her. Sam felt unbalanced again.

"Who, Carter?"

"Who? Who do you think? That bastard, General Newcombe! Who forces female soldiers to follow orders while 'under' him! Ok, it's in some fancy hotel room but it's no different than being a prisoner in that rancid smelling hut of some backward warlord and waiting for him to force himself on me!" Sam shouted, on her feet as her hands accentuated her words with sharp movements. He grew still, watching her. She shook her head in confusion. "Her, I meant…"

"I heard you," he interrupted quietly, "I heard you then, too." Sam frowned at the resurging emotional turbulence. Slowly his words sank in. "It was a tough mission, Carter. You pulled it off and I'm not surprised. You handled it. It's what you do."

Sam closed her eyes and tried for control but it was slipping, slipping away. She wrapped herself in her arms. Rich brown eyes still watched her, patiently. And she thought Daniel and Teal'c knew her well: this man could read her clear as radar.

"I wanted to kill him, sir."

"I know."

"I thought it could make this creepiness under my skin, in my head, go away. Erase it, you know?"

"I know."

"But I didn't and now I keep seeing him and them and that hotel and that tent – and I'm so damned angry that I thought…I was freeing women on another planet while right _here_ in the SGC..." The words garbled in her throat and the last of her control dropped. The full force of her pent-up turmoil was poised for release. "They were so _alone_ waiting for help that never came. No backup busting through the doors to save them from…" Her eyes sought his. "I waited for you. I kept waiting, and I didn't know if…" Sam let her arms fall.

"You'll never be left behind," Jack said, then added quietly, "I-We'll always be there for you, Sam."

Sam reached out blindly to him. And then those arms were around her gathering her close and holding her against his heart.

"Let it go, I've got you," Jack whispered into her hair. And she did.

To be continued. Next up: Chapter 5 - The Conclusion.

Love to know what you think, please talk back! And thanks for reading.


	5. Chapter 5: Full Disclosure

**Decommissioned **

_Many thanks to all of you who read my little effort at fanfic. And double thanks to all who reviewed: your comments are deeply appreciated and helped tremendously in the final chapter (shout out to **mara anni** for a valuable insight). Super thanks again to **dreamer one**, beta extraordinaire. This is a rocky chapter; hang in and enjoy!_

**5. Full Disclosure**

_I've got you. This time, I've got you._

Jack felt the world and time shift around him. Back to the moment he should have altered that forsaken mission.

"_I'm thinking we should just go back while we're ahead," Sam said. The horsemen's reaction to her was violent in the extreme. He'd thought they could handle it. In the end it was Sam who had to handle it, alone. _

With an Asgard beamer handy, Jack had kept close contact with Landry and Davis over the past few hours, finally getting word that Sam had left the SGC. Jack insisted Landry allow Daniel and Teal'c to keep her in sight, which the two would have done anyway.

Now she was here, stiff against him, her tall form shivering with emotion. No tears; Sam didn't do tears in front of him much. He held onto to her, imparting the support they'd always tried to give each other. While deep down a part of him wickedly welcomed this chance to hold her close, another part was a little surprised at how much it hurt to do so, physically and emotionally.

Really hurt. Sam was letting it all go and what she was releasing was pure fury. She grabbed onto him, tee-shirt and flesh gripped in her strong hands_. Ouch. Definitely going to be gouge marks. _Her fist pounded his shoulder_. OUCH. Make that gouges and holes, _he thought

"How could a general expect me to just _do_ him?" Sam growled into his chest after a few minutes. She pulled back, her eyes shiny and bursting with anger. The next moment his arms were empty.

Sam stalked away from him and paced. Jack's eyes narrowed as he noted the signs of her fight with Newcombe: Her dress blues, usually as perfect as humanly possible, were wrinkled and close to losing a button. And was that? His hands clenched. It was a bruise forming on her jaw. Son of a…

_Turghan's hand swung round his body to backhand Carter across the face. The brutal blow knocked her completely off the ground and landed her on a log, where she barely missed cracking her head. Even so, it took two long seconds before she shook herself aware and just missed getting hacked with Turghan's over- the- top knife. He released the safety on his P90._

"_Gen. O'Neill, this is Agent Barrett. Col. Carter's mission was successful but you need to know there was an unforeseen development. The general physically attacked her. I have to say she fought back like I never knew she could. She was far from being his next victim."_

Newcombe tried to rape her, Barrett meant. And they'd watched. He wondered how to buy a private moment with that depraved, lower than a snakehead creep.

As he saw her turn around to pace again, he picked up more signs of the fight: her stocking had a run. Her hand, when she raised it to swipe her hair back impatiently, showed discolored blotches. Suddenly her eyes were on him again.

"We keep this whole damned planet from being enslaved, and what does he do? He comes after a _Lt. Colonel_! How stupid is that?" Sam demanded. She had bright spots of color on her cheeks like a fever. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Then she was coming toward him again. "He said…he had a '_fancy_' to _have me_ on the glass." Her voice dropped and a look of revulsion came over her. "Sir, I …we set him up, yeah, but he _wanted_ me, you know?" She asked and walked into him.

"I know," Jack whispered as he opened his arms and enfolded her again. Her agitation was wearing down; he could feel her resting her weight into him more. He closed his eyes at the reminder of her close call on that mission eight years ago.

"_But what will happen to Dr. Carter tonight if we wait__?" Teal'c asked. Jack's heart jumped when the old chief hesitated._

"_Turghan will partake in his newest purchase_._" _

Then the newest version of the same nightmare fell on her.

"_Let me get this straight: some bozo of a general's ordered her to his hotel room for - to… WHAT? What the hell's going on?" Jack asked the voice on the other end of his private cell phone. "And are you looking for shooters when you put him against the wall? Yeah, I'll do it!" _

"_Newcombe's accused of blackmailing female soldiers into having sex with him. We have testimony but top brass wants an unbreakable case. Carter's volunteered to get it." Maj. Davis informed him, with the President's approval. "The White House and the Joint Chiefs gave this a go. They really want him taken down."_

_Ten minutes of intense point counterpoint followed, with Jack pushing to be there and Davis insisting that he couldn't. Davis prevailed due to the restrictions from the top; Jack was inside on this only as a favor. It was as far as he was allowed, no negotiations. He couldn't help her._

" _We've got her six, General."_

"_I'll take it personally if you don't, Davis." _

As his former teammate and current friend removed herself from his embrace to pace again, Jack wondered about the part they couldn't cover. Obviously they miscalculated the general's determination to get at Carter. How the hell does a general fall so low? _Keep it down, for her_, he ordered his spiking anger.

She'd played it close from the time she first asked his advice, shielding her fellow soldiers even those she trusted with her life. Davis said the details were undisclosed to protect the victims, but Sam was free to inform him of her role, in part because she came to him with the situation first.

The other part had to do with their "special relationship," that is, as former CO and 2IC on the first-line planetary exploration and defense team. Jack watched her stop and glance out the window through the pale sheers. Late afternoon sun framed her in a halo; angel of mercy he mused. Then he shook himself. His "angel" was hurting from her tussle with a devil and he was mentally doodling. Aside from the first moments when she realized where she was, Sam took his presence in stride. He liked that. But she was still venting steam.

"Did you know him, sir? Did you know he…"

"Nah, didn't like him much, Carter. And at his level just about everybody's outside his dirty little circle," Jack replied. He kept eye contact with her. He was very glad he could be honest with her. Finally she nodded and sighed. Her eyes were gradually taking in the place, noting the high ceilings, natural wood floors and long windows of the suburban house. The furnishings hadn't caught her attention yet except for the cocktail table that she studiously avoided in her pacing.

As a matter of fact, he noticed something in the way she avoided his eyes at different times.

Sam probably knew she was stalling. Yet he couldn't ask her to open up to him if she wasn't ready. Bringing her here was supposed to give her space, allow her to regroup, walk a hole in the floor or whatever helped. Maybe this wasn't such a good…

"He was despicable. He sat there and kept smirking, bragging that he'd get away with his crimes," Sam spoke suddenly. She paused and stared down at the glass topped coffee table. Her hand came up to rub her forehead a little wearily, but her face was angry again. "He _ordered_ me to 'surrender'! And he expected I would because…he, uh, he was so crude," she said, her voice faltered, losing heat.

_Again, not looking him in the eye,_ Jack noted. Then she paced away, putting distance between them. Jack felt his stomach lurch. Did that creep do something else she hadn't disclosed?

_They'd gotten her back. But during the night he opened his eyes to a slight sound. He lay facing her, and in the fire light he saw her move restlessly and frown in discomfort. He thought she uttered 'Don't!' but then she settled on her side and quieted. After the throw down with the chief, she didn't quite walk steadily but typically, Carter said she was 'fine.' And then they found out she'd been whipped. She'd never said a word._

Her soft voice brought him out of the past.

"Didn't mean to be so antsy," Sam said. Itwas so hard when she was looking directly at him, into his knowing brown eyes. But who was she kidding? He knew something wasn't right.

Jack rubbed his hair in thought, self-consciously sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans. She turned away and paced to the window. _What are you hiding, Sam?_

Jack was reminded of his post-special ops state of mind. The overload of mission images, smells, adrenaline and the need for secrecy that bottled it all up until the right safety valve was within reach. It had kept him just like Sam: walking a wire. She had gone ballistic already but there was always fallout after release. He was pretty sure she hadn't let it all go. He took a step. Sam's head swung up. He stopped. _Oh, yeah, strung_.

Sam grimaced at herself. She couldn't envision better support than her team, and better with Jack. Therein lay the source of the disquiet. Her eyes shifted to the window.

"Sam?" Jack bit his tongue. Again her head snapped toward him. "Come on, that's your name, you answer to it, right?" he said lightly. It took a moment but she finally lost the fine crease between her eyes and smiled a little smile. Better. "So, talk to me. Old battle-ass and his ass-ociates are down for the count. The soldiers got justice …"

Seeing Marguerite back at work would be the best thing about this sordid operation, Sam thought.

"Have you…heard the tape, sir?"

Jack was warned by the hesitance in her voice.

"No, I doubt I'll be allowed. Need to know," Jack replied.

"I want you to." Her voice was flat. He didn't like that, not from Sam.

"Something else going on, Carter?" He waited. Sam focused on what Jack thought was the Air Force logo on his tee shirt. He cleared his throat and the sound jolted her back. Her expression wavered before she made a decision.

"Yes, sir, something else," Sam said. As if her legs gave out, she sank onto the couch, feet flat on the floor and leaning her chin in her hand. He thought she could fold herself in half very neatly if she lowered herself a bit more. Her head turned as he eased closer and sat on the coffee table in front of her. Blue eyes looked deep into brown before her lips lifted slightly. "I don't remember thanking you, sir," she said softly. Slowly her hand reached for him, finally grasping one of his that dangled between his knees.

"For what, Carter?" Jack responded. He let her hold his hand without returning any pressure. This was different, he thought as he studied her hands. Strange that he'd watched her hands working at numerous tasks over the years; he'd never noticed how much he noticed her hands. Long fingered, large feminine hands. He suddenly saw the beefy hands of a four star general and how they would dwarf hers. _Back off from there_, he ordered himself.

He realized she was still silent.

"For what you taught me that got me through this…this toxic encounter," Sam said finally. She let his larger hand fall and then caught it again just to feel its warmth and weight over and over. The thought that this was a little off did occur to her but it felt good, and she needed to feel a little good again. "I finally know why you insisted I learn particular moves."

Oh yeah, mostly prompted by the comparison of Turghan's size and Sam's.

_Samantha and Goliath. He had a damned machete compared to her utility knife and she wasn't backing down. At Turghan's opening charge, Jack's mind was mentally forcing her to avoid the broad swings of the chief's weapon. The flurry of close-in fighting ripped his heart even as he finally realized Sam was doing it, drew first blood, for cryin' out loud. He admitted then and there how much he'd taken her skills for granted. Never again, if – when she got through this._

"Uh, I don't think I had much to do with your kick-butt mission, Carter. It was you from the first phone call," Jack replied. "Pure don't-tread-on-me Carter all the way." She stared at his hand until he flexed it. Looking up, he raised an eyebrow. Sam ducked her head and smiled before resuming the hand-juggling. "I've known for a long time now that you have great stuff in you, Carter. It shows."

Sam paused and frowned at the memory that surfaced.

"Sir, I was so angry about it all that I didn't really think," she explained.

"You, not think? Your _anger_ has thoughts, for crying out loud, Carter!"

Her hand gripped his. This was harder than she thought.

"When the JAG and Davis got one of Newcombe's boys to push me forward on his list, I – we had no way of knowing exactly how he would approach me. We figured he'd pick up on my dad, on General Hammond. But it wasn't discussed – oh, crap." Sam swore as her voice caught. He was holding her hand now, waiting out her lapse. "It wasn't discussed that you could be part of it." In her heart she expected it but she kept that to herself.

Jack sat back. Her eyes told him a story of shame and guilt.

"He used me to blackmail you? How?" Jack asked. Her hand pulled out of his. She bit her lip, a gesture he was familiar with when she was deep into a complex problem. "Sam."

"He said he would report that I slept with you to get promoted. That we were already in a relationship that broke regulations and he'd make sure you were disgraced. And Hammond disgraced. If I didn't sleep with him."

The words tumbled from her mouth and then it closed. She was looking away from him, her hands clasped on top of her knees. At his shocked expression, Sam couldn't sit; she got up and just waited. If that idea freaked him as much as it did her, he'd be speechless. And he was.

Words didn't make it to Jack's mouth. They snagged in his brain as he digested her words. Affair with Carter. Holy crap, where had _that_ come from? She wouldn't meet his eyes. Good thing; he could feel fire shooting from him when he thought of what that would have done to her. Her knuckles were white. It took some time to find his voice again.

"Ok, so he was dim-witted enough to think you'd do that. That I'd do that. What else?" Jack knew there had to be more. He sure didn't want there to be more but he obviously wasn't going to get what he wanted. He'd only made the mistake of not inquiring further with her just that once.

"…_cuts and bruises, and just some aggravation of the lash wounds. She'll be sore but ok in a few…" Jack lost the rest of the doctor's words after 'lash.' He could feel Daniel and Teal'c as they all looked toward the curtained-off bed behind where Sam was resting. Blood freezes in 1.2 seconds after sudden shock, his mind informed him from very, very far away. _

Sam faced him and shook her head.

"I shouldn't have brought it up. Sorry, sir."

"Don't do that, Carter. Not this time." Jack said. His voice was tense, his face haunted like Sam had rarely seen. His eyes drove into her, probing for something he needed to find.

"Uh, sir?"

"Absolve me. It's clear you never forgave me for leaving you that night."

"No, I never blamed you. I never blamed any of you. I told you that," Sam answered. Whoa: she didn't have to think of what night he was talking about. She felt herself on edge again. Jack locked onto her. She took a step back before she could stop herself.

"Who did you blame, then?"

"Sir, it was a lousy mission and nobody could have changed a thing! I didn't blame anyone."

Jack watched, taking another step. This time she stood her ground. Barely.

"Maybe you should have," he replied. Sam stared at him, still as the walls. He swallowed at the surge of memory and emotion flooding him. _She was standing in the compound, veiled, eyes down, in the posture of a servant or worse a slave. The blue dress was gone. He felt sick as he wondered why. _Sam shied away from what he revealed. "If I'd told you the dreams I had." He blinked slowly to will the recalled visions away. "You know why I had dreams of you screaming, alone with that…Do you know why?"

Sam moved, bringing her hands together in front of her. He saw her shake her head. But she did know. She did scream.

"Because you didn't leave me anything else. That tent has haunted me for a decade, Carter. And now I see you're still there, too."

"How many times do I have to say this? I didn't blame you, sir."

"Really? 'Cause I distinctly remember you weren't debriefed for three days after we got back, and two of those days you wouldn't see us. On the third day you arose from your bed and forgave us all, and all was…" Jack's sarcasm covered the pain of being shut out.

"Don't you dare put your guilty conscience on me! You want to wear a hair shirt for another ten years, go right ahead, sir. I've moved on, so should you," Sam retorted. She averted her eyes but couldn't remain long without looking at him. He was grim, not angry but determined. He wasn't letting this go. _"Not this time."_

"Ah, you've moved on. And yet you're carrying that tent with you. It's called a flashback, Carter, and it means you haven't dealt with it and you haven't moved on. And you won't until you do." Jack returned firmly.

"It's been ten years! I haven't even thought about it until now!" _Oh, damn_. Sam mentally reached to pull the words back. Jack raised his eyebrow, and like the clever leader he was, just waited. "Sir, none of this has anything to do…"

"Sit," Jack said, cutting her off. Sam frowned at this abrupt order. He tilted his head and nodded for her to sit. Grudging, she moved to the sofa. "On the coffee table," he said. He wanted to kick himself at the moment of horror on her face.

"The couch is for sitting, sir," Sam murmured. The glass top repelled her. She looked up; he knew that.

"It's strong enough. Sit down, Carter."

"You brought me here to order me?" _A broad swath of spotless, lightly tinted glass under her back, and above her, Newcombe. _

"Humor me then, please. Sit on the coffee table." Jack repeated. Sam didn't move immediately. When she slowly made to comply he stopped her. He steeled himself to the puzzlement and relief and then annoyance on her face. "That glass will be _in_ the tent, Carter, if you don't deal with this now. General Idiot brought back some bad feelings. Feelings you kept to yourself, but now they're out. And we know they're there and I need you let me in this time. Please."

He lifted her chin with his hand to try to see her eyes. The tears that welled up jolted him. _Geez, don't cry…_

"I'm not crying," Sam retorted. She knew he went belly up with protectiveness when he saw tears. "When I get angry my eyes water, that's all." She swiped the rogue drop that escaped before it reached her lip. Not that she minded that attention at other times but now, it only made her appear wimpy. Panic hovered on his face as he watched her deal with the teardrop.

"Ok, angry tears. I know about those. Talk to me." Jack replied. He wasn't buying all that but for now he'd place her reason on credit. The next moment she was on her feet. Two, three steps and turn; pissed-off Carter was back.

"He made it so disgusting, all right? So…so sleazy, like I sold my body!" She shouted at him. "God, and to think he thought you would be like him." Sam looked down at herself, her uniform. "He was all over me. He wanted me to fight him, and when I did, he got more… more excited. I felt so polluted…" Her hands went to the buttons but shook too much to undo them. Her eyes glazed as she grabbed the lapels and pulled until all the stubborn buttons popped off and she flung the jacket away from her.

Jack felt as if ten zats had blasted him at once. His brain was just beginning to process the violent image, her anguish. Then her umbrage about _him_ and now she'd ripped her dress jacket off and…

Sam wasn't here.

Jack froze. His traumatized friend gazed at the cast off garment as if she expected it to spring back on her and she'd fight it to the death before she let it. And the way her hands fingered her skirt made him wonder if she considered…"_He was all over me_."

Jack's plans for Newcombe began forming from the red haze in his mind. _Dismemberment; one finger at a time. Then - some of Ba'al's acid down his…_

_OK, focus, _he thought_. Sam's a combat soldier. She's wrestling demons in her past and present. She'd defeated the one only to face and defeat its resurrected presence again._ It hurt, but Jack knew to wait, stand by; and long after he'd felt his heart about to jerk itself to bits, she came out of it. He hadn't moved but Sam's head swung toward him. Her eyes widened and…_Oh, no… not the tears. Oh, crap. _

"Angry tears, right? Cue me on this, Carter, you know," Jack said, his fingers waving helplessly. Her hands sprang up to wipe the leaks away. She couldn't wipe away her deep mortification. Then she covered her face briefly before looking back at him. Jack shuffled uncomfortably.

"Tears of embarrassment," she squeaked. _Don't lose it. 'You handled it. It's what you do.'_

"Ok, ok that's different. I guess," he murmured. She was still being too brave. Brave as in taking it on the chin and don't-want-to-look-weak brave. Not good, not now; they'd been there, done that. A change in her expression caught his eye; he watched.

Sam stood rubbing her arms absently. Her eyes were focused on the table again. With a determined shrug she stomped two steps, took a breath and sat. She clamped her eyes shut.

_Just glass, that's all_, Sam commanded herself.

Alright, stubborn Carter was good. Jack let her collect herself, then made his way to the sofa and sat in front of her. After some minutes he saw her take a deep breath and blink.

"Ok?"

"Yeah, I guess," Sam answered. She kept her eyes downcast until he lifted one of her hands in his. There it was all the understanding and concern she'd refused at the time. It was what she wanted back then, his belief in her. She'd had it since but apparently this didn't backdate. "It was kind of humiliating, you know? There I was trying to show you how qualified I was to be on SG-1 and I get snatched out of a tent by a boy!" Sam said, grimacing a little. He shook his head.

"I left you behind, Carter," Jack said. He fidgeted with her hand absently. Her head dropped again. "It's what this is about, isn't it? Being alone, not knowing if help would come, and if it did, in time?" He eased her head up with a finger beneath her chin, leaving her little choice but to look at him. Those eyes haunted him then, too:

_Finally her eyes lifted above the dark veil and he felt pierced through. Blue eyes blazed with a banked rage he was surprised hadn't ignited the area in a mushroom cloud. Before he could move, Daniel was helping her hastily to mount the horse. They took off. Sam's combustion was put on hold. But it didn't come and he floundered in unrelieved guilt._

After a silent moment, Sam nodded, bringing Jack out of his disturbing recall.

"The general, the hotel – it threw me. I was back with that odorous chief and he made his intentions as clear and vile as Newcombe. But I knew you'd come, I did. I just wanted it to be before Turghan…" Sam whispered. It was incredibly clear as if it all happened yesterday. Even to the concern and guilt in Jack's eyes. She touched her forehead to his. "It's just that I couldn't stop thinking of the others the general got to. That they were trapped and had no way out and no one to help them." She took a shaky breath. "And it could have been me, sir. Me – powerless, trapped, raped."

Jack's breathing caught. Sam knew what he was thinking, what the three men had feared.

"I wasn't, sir." She said softly. "He decided to let his 'lesson' sink in. But he promised…that night." She shivered and of course he noticed.

"Is that when he whipped you?" Jack's voice was toneless. She'd never talked of it and he feared to ask, even though as her commanding officer he could have found out or ordered her to debrief with him. The Captain never balked at going on new missions but something deep had occurred and she still held it in. Her hair tickled his forehead. Jack raised his eyes to hers.

"_You want to keep your man down for good? Hit him here," he pointed to his chest, "go through and pull his heart out," he panted. Her contained bitterness was replaced by openness and good ol' Carter curiosity. "Go through him. If you don't get in you'll still shock his heart enough to disrupt the beat or stop it altogether." After a moment, she nodded. "This is the last time you fight fair, Captain." Sam nodded her understanding and took a breath before resuming their combat positions. It was amends of sorts; she was good, but he'd teach her as many dirty tricks as it took to increase her advantage in a similar encounter. But there won't be any similar circumstances, he swore. _

And at this moment years later, she'd proven herself again. It was standard operating procedure for her, doing what had to be done, and surviving with whoever she could tow along. Jack wanted to let her know he'd be there when she needed to shake the war weariness out. Be it earth or off-world; past, present, future.

Then the tears fell harder. They were both motionless. Jack tried to control his quivers inside but it was useless. These were the tears he dreaded, that went soul deep. Still head to head, he waited for whatever came next. Her hands crept up to grip his shoulders; he ignored the sharp little pain her long fingers caused.

"You know I was lashed. But it wasn't where…you'd think," Sam sniffed. She gave up trying to keep back the hated wetness from her eyes.

"Not your back?" This was new, he thought as he mentally scrolled back to the aftermath of the incident.

"Lower," she murmured.

_Sam was dropped face down on the dusty rugs. Turghan stood, then summoned a female. He ordered the dress removed, and threatened to kill the servant if Sam resisted. Her hands were briefly untied to accomplish the hasty removal and the woman scurried out. The fine woven white trousers were left on. Sam heard his movements behind her and couldn't stop shaking. His rough hand stroked her back before becoming a more painful exploration. Finally he bound her wrists again before he dragged her up and over his knees. She bit her lip but the whimper escaped when he yanked the pants down. "To be a woman you must stop being a child. Before I come to you tonight, you will be grown!" He roared. The first lash came down. _

Jack was so still she couldn't tell if he breathed or not. God, she'd said it…finally said it. She felt his hands ease to gently grasp her shoulders now.

"Sam. You sat a horse, you fought him…" Jack's voice was rough.

"That anesthetic worked, what little the grateful women could smuggle in," Sam replied softly. By the time she'd hiked back to the gate, it's benefits had completely worn off.

Jack swallowed. What could he possibly have said to her then? It was unbearable that his brave, proud 2IC had been treated that way. Not knowing her as well as he did later, he'd probably have driven her into herself with a well meaning joke. He flexed his hands on her shoulders. She was crying quietly, the only way she ever cried.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," he whispered. Her hands fell from him so she could wipe at her face. He stopped her, and did it himself. "I'm sorry you couldn't tell me, and I'm sorry I couldn't help you." The image of her limping, or seating herself carefully in the cafeteria or briefing room assaulted him. She was so fair skinned; did she scar? She wasn't herself for over a week.

Sam nodded slowly. She knew from their first mission that he would take his responsibilities very seriously. She just didn't want to be an undue part of that duty. Now that she'd revealed her secret shame, she could see that he was going to take it on his shoulders anyway, after all this time.

And unlike then, she welcomed his shoulder now.

"C'mere," he murmured, and gently brought her onto his lap. Her head nestled into him and soon he felt her shudder and wetness mixed with her warm breath against his neck. Jack let the peace come over him as they held each other and let the tensions of past and present meet then drain away. He cradled her very gently, his hand stroking her back lightly.

If it wasn't a perfect world, it was at least a perfect moment, Jack thought. The world had seen another sunset. The worst guilt and anger he'd had for a decade released. The soldier he'd valued as his right hand, an impossibly brilliant scientist and truest close friend was sharing comfort and support. And more, trusting him. When her crying eased, they were content to let the moments extend in the quiet room.

He felt her stir against him. When he shifted his shoulder a little, she flinched. Jack stiffened.

Sam wanted to kick herself. Here she was in the best human cocoon in creation and she just broke it. She sniffed, wondering why that sensitive ear made contact with him at this moment. Although the memory it evoked was ugly, Sam didn't follow it. Her colleague and more than a friend had just given her safe haven from the day's madness and it warmed her from the bone to her fingertips. But she didn't want to disturb what peace he seemed to have now.

"You're hurt," his voice vibrated into her. Jack attempted to look at her but she tightened her arms around him. He smiled in spite of himself.

"No, not yet, sir," she muttered against his throat. His arms settled again and she thought all was well. Then she moved. "Oh," she groaned before she could stop herself. That did it, of course. Sam sighed as his hands gently but firmly eased her away.

"Where?" Jack asked. He looked down at her white dress shirt and then her arms. His eyes widened then narrowed. Bruises marched their way up her pale skin to disappear under the short sleeves. He lightly traced them, noting some were still forming while others were minor and would fade quickly. _Toes; he'd hack them too…_Sam's movement drew him back to her face. She pointed to the ear. _Tongue_, he added, _break jaw on both sides_.

"He liked to mark his catches. The doc treated it but it's still kind of raw," Sam whispered. His eyes blazed almost like a Goa'uld, she thought. She held still as his large familiar hand traced her earlobe until it reached the angry cut. He touched it so lightly she barely felt it. But when he touched his lips there she felt _that_. He leaned away a little to look in her eyes.

"Better?" Jack asked softly. Her blue eyes were wider than he'd ever seen.

"Yes," she replied so low he almost missed it. Oddly it did feel better; cleansed would be the right word. As if he knew this, he repeated the wonderful deed. Moisture gathered in her eyes again. Her arms went around his shoulders and she held him there as her mind gratefully replaced the bad memory with this. It was so much more than she ever expected out of this day. "Thank you, Jack," she said tearfully. "Thank you for being here."

"Always, Sam." Jack breathed in her hair.

The room was much darker when the quiet occupants mutually accepted that their time was up. Neither spoke as they separated. Sam climbed to her feet with Jack holding her hands before he stood, too.

"Ready?" Jack managed to ask. He was surprised and pleased when her hand spread over his shirt and smoothed it against him. Her bright hair moved as she shook her head slowly.

"Not quite. Sir, would it be so terrible if…if I showered? I know it sounds strange, but…" Sam said after working up the nerve to request this favor. She couldn't stand the uniform one more minute.

"Say no more. Although what you'll wear may not fit as well," Jack answered. He thought he understood; well, when she stripped off her dress blue that was a bit of a hint. He switched on a table lamp and was surprised to see her eyes on him. She smiled her thanks as if he'd granted her dearest wish. He would if he could, grant her dearest wish and his own, but for now a shower would have to suffice. "This way," he said.

Thirty minutes later, she stepped out of the steamy bathroom feeling brand new. And more: he'd given her the shirt he wore! She knew it the moment she touched it. How cool was that, she laughed as she fingered the soft fabric that draped her with his scent. It was a deliciously taboo comfort and Sam refused to analyze it, just simply accepted it. The sweat pants, rolled twice at her waist to secure them, were faded and soft from repeated washing. Sam grinned. She felt dressed for a lazy weekend afternoon. She carried her shoes so she wouldn't spoil the feeling.

"Thanks, sir. I just didn't think I could stomach my own clothes anymore," Sam said as she found him in the living room. He stared at her a moment before giving her a nod.

"I got that, Carter. What should I do with said unwanted articles?" Jack asked. His world just shifted again as she came out of his bathroom wearing his oversized clothes and looking…at home … in his home. _Steady, fella_. He held up the items in question. Sam wrinkled her nose and stepped around him.

"Kindling? I don't want them, sir. I don't want them in my house," Sam replied. Her manner dimmed a bit. Jack stuffed the items in a small duffle bag. She looked at him, a question in her eyes.

"Can't leave them here, you know," Jack explained. She nodded, suddenly shy. There was that pesky accusation of breaking regulations. Just in case, he said to himself, someone wanted to follow up. Keeping his fanciful thoughts on a tight leash, he cleared his voice. "I told Teal'c and Daniel to meet us at your place. Hope that's ok?" He knew they kept keys to each other's homes. Sam hesitated an age before she finally nodded.

Sam sighed. This was it; her respite was over, the real world awaited. She stepped beside him. He looked down at her with understanding in his gaze, the Asgard device in hand.

They smiled naturally at each other. Friends who helped each other, friends who accepted help from each other. Jack's arm came around her shoulder and she rested her head on his, a smile still on their faces as they disappeared in the sparkly light.

Daniel and Teal'c looked up from their seats on the sofa in Sam's living room. Seconds later, there they were. Jack took his arm from Sam as she stepped forward to greet them with a broad smile on her face. Jack looked incredibly goofy, Daniel thought.

"Sam, you're ok," Daniel said, happily returning her embrace. She nodded and kissed him on the cheek. "More than okay, I see. Hey, Jack." Daniel adjusted his glasses and gave Sam a second look in her new attire. He saw Jack signal 'don't ask' and just shrugged.

"You appear to have regained your mojo, Col. Carter," Teal'c said. He allowed her enthusiastic hug and even returned the nice gesture. Sam planted a kiss on his cheek.

"I'm getting there, thanks to all of you," Sam replied with a laugh. How she loved these guys!

"General O'Neill, it is good to see you as well." Teal'c turned to Jack. Jack grinned but was distracted.

"Is that pizza?" Jack asked. His stomach reacted immediately to the delicious aroma. He spotted the boxes on the kitchen island. "Yes! Oh Danny, be a good guy and put this in the dumpster, will ya? Thanks!" Jack said, tossing the small bag to his other scientist friend and making a bee-line for the food.

Sam watched the bag's short flight into Daniel's surprised grasp. He thought she looked repulsed by it.

"Sure, just save me at least a slice. It was just delivered!" Daniel agreed and sprinted outside. He didn't bother looking in it; no doubt it would be explained. The important thing was that their Sam was back. Daniel stepped back into the house.

It was almost like their early days as SG-1, Teal'c reflected as they finished their meal amid conversation spiked with humor (especially from O'Neill) and updates from himself, Col. Carter and Daniel. It felt good to be together once more. He missed O'Neill this past year.

But it was inevitable that the incident involving the military leader and Col. Carter would not go away easily. He saw lines of discomfort in his Tau'ri colleague when she moved. O'Neill was even more sensitive to her, turning to her whenever she evidenced such. She waved him off, true to her proud nature he had come to know. O'Neill chose that moment to catch his eye. He was a leader and it would be unusual if he did not sense his teammates unease.

"Ok, guys. It's been a blast, not to mention delicious," Jack said with a sigh. Sam, sitting next to him, looked up with the others. "Let's get to the 'but' you two have been waiting for." He felt Sam shift again. She had bruises he couldn't see (and probably shouldn't think of) and hadn't been still since they got here. Sam was more uneasy about what she was going to tell them. It took a minute or two before she spoke.

Sam related Newcombe's blackmail and threat to SG-1 in quick time. It didn't lessen the shock and anger it caused in Daniel and Teal'c. The threat to Sam's career hit them especially hard. Daniel looked murderous. Teal'c's dark eyes seemed to darken, the only outward sign of his displeasure. Ok, she thought. On with the rest of this travesty of a day. With a notable exception. Only slightly less was their shock that Newcombe was related to Hansen and blamed her and SG-1 for his death. That made Jack sit up.

"That has to be a fluke of nature:_ two_ messianic jerks in one family?" Daniel sputtered, a look of sympathy directed at Sam.

"Perhaps dishonor is in their blood," Teal'c remarked ominously. But his eyes were kind to her.

Her former fiancé was a grim memory for them, but far more for her. Sam didn't go into the damage the general's interference caused between her and his nephew. That was too painful and too personal to talk about - being subjected to "the lunatic fringe" – twice. They were so quiet she thought she could hear their churning thoughts. Jack shifted beside her

"Newcombe said…everyone that knew you didn't believe the rumor, sir. Said you were too noble for your own good. At least I can agree on that." she sighed. Jack turned to look at her, puzzled. She ducked her head. If they suspected there was more, none of them spoke on it, and the tension eventually eased after that final revelation. Sam expelled a breath.

Daniel looked at them, sitting almost identically with one leg bent and the other straight out. Sam was tired but now studied him curiously. He wanted to smile at their home-casual attire, especially the bare feet. One look at Jack's face, however kept him to the somber face more appropriate for what he and Teal'c just heard.

"So, there were rumors. About you two?" Daniel asked as casually as he could. Naturally he knew the truth; they were more by-the-book than the book. However, it was interesting that outsiders might see something other than commander and second in command. Sam had high color in her cheeks. Jack's ears were red. Their heads were cocked at opposing angles and sitting the way they were it was almost like looking in a mirror. When they both shrugged opposite shoulders, he had to glance away. If they decided to dispel rumors they'd best not be standing or sitting together at the time, he thought. "Yeah, what a crazy idea," he muttered.

"What was that, Daniel?" Sam saw Daniel's eyes on her.

"What? Oh, didn't mean to stare. Ok, I just wanted to know what we intend to do about these "problems" for SG-1," he said. "I mean, we have enough on our plates without this."

"I feel that, Daniel. Dealing with the general just gave me a feeling that we're fighting on two fronts. I mean, sexists, tyrants, ego-maniacs - we keep running into our own human craziness out there! Like chasing our tails around the universe," she answered, frustrated.

"Yeah, like Newcombe and Turghan, two sides of a coin," Daniel said quietly. He saw her face change but she nodded. "I guess it didn't occur to me how capable you were, that is, are; but I did let you down back then. Yes, I've learned since those early missions, but the mistakes we made, like almost losing you to Turghan…I marvel that you forgave me, us, at all. And today, when that – that goon in uniform went at you…" he stopped as the vision struck him anew.

"You faced him with the same resolve as you faced the tribal chieftain, Col. Carter. And again you prevailed," Teal'c added. She still impressed him all these years later, he mused. Quick to defray praise as she was now. He gave his regal nod and discomforted her no further.

Sam took a fortifying breath. After Newcombe's sarcastic "immaculate genius" remark, now they make her out to be a saint? She knew differently.

"You know I wasn't so forgiving at first," Sam said in a low voice. She didn't need to see their heads drop. Or their eyes averted as their thoughts went back to that painful debriefing.

_Hammond sat stiffly, incensed that the team allowed a member to be separated and left alone in a culture so clearly hostile to females. Even Teal'c's dark complexion reddened at the tirade. Jack was uncharacteristically humble. Sam watched silently, coldly, glad at their blistering scolding. Only a few missions later, however, her resentment had fully faded. _

"Look, I know I kind of flipped today, mixing up my villains and all. But Jack and I already went over the chief thing. I never blamed you. Ok, not much," she amended with a meaningful smile and they shifted unconsciously. "Look how young we were at missions then! And I haven't done anything we all haven't done since. I'm glad we're still around when we need each other. I mean, look at us: We're SG-1, it's what we do!" She said, raising a smile on their serious faces. "I'm glad you're here today," she said sincerely.

This conversation decided her: the earlier disclosure to Jack would remain between the two of them. _It's done, for all of us_. Then she did the unthinkable. She yawned.

"Well, that's a hint, Sam. Maybe we should let our mission leader get some rest," Daniel teased gently. But the look on her face alerted him. Glancing at Teal'c, he thought he saw it, too.

"Carter?" Jack asked, noting the change in Teal'c and Daniel's expressions. He turned to look at her.

"I just wanted to let you know you're welcome to drop by anytime," Sam replied, "All of you," she amended as Jack grinned. "I mean, you've always been, anyway. ALL of you."

"Some of us can 'drop in' literally,." Daniel said, casting a teasing eye at Jack. He grinned when Jack put his finger to his lips. _Rumors_, Daniel thought irreverently, _right?_

"Anyway, I'd love the company so why don't you stay over tonight?" Sam finished. Her face heated, and she hoped she didn't sound desperate. Three pairs of kind eyes looked back at her.

"Who gets the couch?" Daniel asked jovially. Teal'c even smiled his agreement.

"There is ample floor space, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c replied. He was already scouting the room.

"Hey, we'll just camp out right here. Sound ok with you, Carter?" Jack replied. He knew what she was instinctively seeking and her grateful smile confirmed it. She grinned at the other two and rose from the sofa.

"Just what I was thinking, sir. Daniel, Teal'c, ok?" Sam asked. She needn't; they smiled back at her and began moving furniture around. There were two chairs and the sofa. "I'll just get some linens!" She called and sprinted toward the rear of the house. The few tears of relief were dried before she returned to them.

They grinned at Sam's face over the mound of blankets and pillows she carried in and started playfully tossing to them.

Sam let her head settle on Jack's shoulder as they reclined on the sofa, their feet up on the wooden coffee table. Both were snuggled into their own blankets as were Daniel and Teal'c. She noticed they had moved the comfortable chairs to flank the sofa. It reminded her of their arrangement around the campfire on the Shevadai planet, after her rescue. She'd suspected it was a protective circle with her in the center; and it had rankled, briefly. But she was too relieved at her freedom to quibble then.

And now. Well, it was a perfect circle. Near perfect. A welcome languor spread over her. This night would see her surrounded by the bravest, truest men in the universe. Her friends. They needed to do this more. Jack's head lowered to hers as he breathed deeply, already asleep.

Sam glanced over her bundled teammates. This night would finish the horror of the past and the present. The three men around her would finally put that mission to rest, too. Turghan had lost her many nights of peace; Newcombe won't lose her even one. She could close the door on two of the most troubling missions of her life, and it felt final; it felt good. Tomorrow was tomorrow, they'd deal with it like they always do. And she wouldn't think about Jack having to leave again; there was no telling when they'd all meet…

"Carter, can you not think so loud? I'm over the rainbow here," Jack muttered, gently nuzzling her hair. She stifled a giggle. Then she yawned and huddled closer.

"So am I, sir," she whispered back.

THE END

That's it! Love to know what you think, please talk back! And thanks so much for reading.


End file.
